


The Letter Said...

by Aloisplease



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era, Soldiers, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloisplease/pseuds/Aloisplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirstein lives a normal life in a small town in Oregon, working in his mother's cafe and dealing with high school life until he can leave the state to go to an art school and start his own photography business. After the arrival of 18-year-old and soldier Marco Bott, Jean starts falling for someone that he might never get to see again. (Traveling Solider {The Dixie Chicks} AU)<br/>Playlist for this fic: http://8tracks.com/deadbolt_1/sell-my-soul-to-dream-you-wide-awake<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cafes and Rainy Days

The radio crackled to life, This little cafe was his mother's pride and joy, and he dealt with it to make her happy. The while it's age gave the cafe a more vintage feel, it was the cause of a lot of trouble for Jean, as he was the one expected to fix it when it was broken. only thing that he hated was the dress shirt and bow-tie that she forced all the waiters to wear.

He switched the station on the old radio to the local college station, and the indie music filled the empty cafe. The sun was barely coming up over the ocean, and the streets were empty with the eerie silence of morning light and Jean felt at peace. Most people would hate getting up as early as he did, but he loved it. The smell of roasting coffee beans and pastries cooking was enough to get him through the long summer days.

To Jean, there was nothing better than listening to his music, with his bow-tie untied and draped over his shoulders, drinking fresh coffee and watching the sun come up, sitting cross-legged on the table next to the door. The sun rose slowly that morning, the sun staining the sky around it a bright red color and giving the clouds a pink and purple color.

Jean heaved a sigh, "Red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in the morn' sailors take warn," he whispered under his breath, he knew all too well not than to ignore the blood colored sky's warning. He knew from experience.

Glancing at the clock, Jean jumped off the table. he only had two hours until the cafe's opening at eight, and he had a lot left to do. He had a lot of cleaning to do, which was mostly his own fault for neglecting to do it the night before. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and got to work.

 

His phone buzzed, alerting Jean from his sleep. He sat up from the counter and rubbed his eyes, picking up his phone to check the time, not concerning himself with the text. The glaring numbers blurred before his eyes before focusing. The time was 7:45 and his mother was going to kill him.

Running to grab a mop from the closet, he hastily cleaned the floor, slipping in his hurried effort. He roughly shoved the dough in the oven and placed the still-hot-pastries in the case. He shifted them so they looked appealing and put their most attractive side forward, hiding their small flaws from the glance of customers. He took one last glance at the clock to ensure that he wasn't opening late and headed to unlock the door.

Flipping the sign on the door and clicking the three locks open, he headed back to his post at the front counter, tying his bow-tie while he sat in the plush cushioned chair. He flipped the radio station to the usual for the cafe and got ready for a long, rainy day.

The first customer to come in to the cafe was the a college professor. Jean didn't know much about her other than she taught science and was extremely eccentric. She was usually followed by two more professors, on their way to morning classes. A small, black haired man with an unusually sharp temper and a larger blonde man who always wore a bolo tie and was constantly laughing at little things the smaller one said, even if he didn't intend them to be funny. Then an older man often came in, with a bald head and white mustache. Jean liked this man, he always was talking about this and that and, over all, seemed like a very genuine person.

This particular morning was different from most others. Two boys and a girl from Jean's high school made their way to the cafe, alive with morning chatter. These three were always together for as long as Jean could remember. Eren, Mikasa and Armin sat down at the booth in the corner, Mikasa scolding Eren for something, but he just laughed, draping his arm around her shoulders.

"What can I get you?' he mumbled, keeping his eyes on his notepad and off of Eren and Mikasa.

Armin chimed in right away, "I'll have a scone and some earl grey. Thanks, Jean!" But Jean could have guessed that, it was always the same. Jean had no problem with Armin, he was a nice guy and would help Jean out with school work when ever he needed it. Eren on the other hand...

Mikasa was the next one to order, "Chai with soy milk, thanks," Jean hastily wrote it down, he has had the biggest crush on Mikasa since she moved here from Japan, her family was close friends with the Jeagers and she had been living with them since the third grade.

"Get me a breakfast sandwich, no cheese and a black coffee," Eren spoke before Jean had even finished writing down Mikasa's order and didn't even look up from the table. Jean sighed to himself and headed over to get the food.

Jean tacked the order to the side of the kitchen door, pouring the already-hot water into a tea cup and throwing a tea bag in. He grabbed a pot of coffee from the first brewer and poured a cup of that, putting both in the microwave to keep the heat in. Mikasa's was slightly more difficult, seeing as she always got the Chai Tea Latte. He threw some of the Chai tea and spices into a coffee filter and put it into the coffee pot, setting it to a three minute brew. Turning the stove on, he put the remaining ingredients in and went to get Armin's scone and Eren's sandwich. Throwing them both on a plate, he headed over to the table, sliding the plates on it so they landed in front of the two boys.

Pouring the rest of the ingredients into the tea cup, Jean grabbed two matching saucers and headed back over to his classmates. He placed each of the three drinks at their respective places and turned to get the next order.

"Jean?" Armin's voice spoke up and he pivoted to look at the blonde boy. "You take photography, right?"

This sparked Jean's interest, photography was his passion. He knew his cameras inside and out and used them whenever he got the chance. Jean planned on going to art college and starting a photography studio to escape the small town in Oregon where he grew up.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" Jean replied, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

"Oh, I need someone to help me make a book cover, I need one for the short stories I'm writing for my advanced writing class,"

"You want me to take the cover photos?" Armin nods, "Sure! I mean, you've help me out with so many essays, its only fair,"

The boy's face lit up, "Thank you so much! I'll send over my favorite three stories and you can pick which one you want to shoot for!" Jean smiled, heading over to the other tables waiting to be served.

 

The storm started only a few hours later, lightning hitting the ocean and thunder cracking in Jean's ears. After every crack of lightning, he took a few seconds, trying to calm himself down, brushing the memories out of his mind and forcing himself to think about Armin's photo request. He knew he would have to find a model and a good shooting location. And to do that he would need to pick which of Armin's stories he wanted to capture.

Thunder cracks again, shaking Jean from his thoughts. The bell on the door rings as another customer walks in, shaking her umbrella off at the door. She was a senior at Jean's school, pretty, reddish-brown shoulder length hair. Jean thought for a moment, trying to think of her name. Paige? No. Penny? No. Petra? Jean lists the names in his head, settling on Petra, at least, he thought that was right.

Jean heads into the back as she sits down, feeling the need to pull out the "Caution, Wet Floor" sign. He places it by the door, just as another customer. Three guy, all also seniors, walk in and walk over to where Petra was sitting.

"Hey guys!" she said happily, "Do you know when Professor Levi will be here? He did say ten. right?"

One of the guys, Gunther, slides in next to her, while the other two sit across from her. Gunther smirks, "Come on, Petra, it's to obvious that you have a crush on him,"

Across the table, Auruo makes a face, displeased with the fact that she had a crush on the professor they were meeting. Petra, on the other hand, was fuming, her face had gone red and her fists were clenched. "Gunther, don't be such a prick, I do not have a crush on him. Besides, he's like thirty-something and has some issues with germs,"

Jean headed over to their table and took their orders, heading back to the kitchen to make the drinks. The cafe was crowd with people, when ever there was a storm a lot of them liked to watch it from our "prime view of the ocean", which was both good for business and annoying for Jean, it meant more work for him.

Another customer walks in, most likely the professor that Petra and the other guys were meeting, and Jean groans, exhausted from work already. His mother doesn't usually come in until twelve on a good day, she had to work another job to support their family, which left Jean a lot of days alone at the cafe.

Jean headed to the back room, mumbling that he was going on break to Ymir, who was now looking bored now that Krista/Historia had left. She nods, and Jean sends her over to get the Professor's order.

In the back room, which was more of a closet where Jean and Ymir sat when they were on break, held a small desk and Jean's computer and camera equipment in a locker that they got a thrift shop. Jean spun the lock and pulled his computer out, opening his email. All five of the files from Armin lined the top of his inbox. Jean opened each in a new tab and started with their titles.

"'Fall of Wall Maria'?" He asked himself, shaking his head. "'Monster Inside Me', 'Ocean Tides', 'Wings of Freedom'?" Jean sighs, think about how he was going to do any of these without any major photoshopping, which he was usually against.

Finally, he stopped to read the last title, "'The Forgotten Soldier', that I can work with," upon reading through the prose, he learned it was about a solider that returns from the war, only to find his family gone, and no one in his hometown remembered him. "Well, all I need is a soldier and I'm set,"

 


	2. The Boy off the Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more about Jean's personality and an introduction to his mom and some of his "friends". Also we meet a certain someone.

Jean left the break room, heading back out to the cafe, where a bored looking Ymir waited for him. Her girlfriend, Historia or Krista or whatever, was no where in sight, which meant that Jean was going to have to deal with her himself.

"What were you doing back there, Jean?" Ymir smirked, "Having fun with yourself?"

Jean groaned, tired of her teasing and still not used to it after the three months that she had been working at the little cafe, "Sorry to disappoint, but I was looking over some work for a friend."

Ymir stares at him, trying to figure out the reason for his bad mood, "Alright, Muffin-top, whatever you say."

Jean's top lip curled, showing his teeth. He walked off, wrapping the apron around him while he grabbed the tea that Ymir had neglected to bring to Professor Levi. Bringing it to him, he noticed how intense the professor looked. His fingers were laced together, resting against his mouth, with a casual bitch face. Jean couldn't tell if that was his face or he was about to tell Gunther off.

Sliding the tea in front of the small man, he headed back to the kitchen. Ymir had three or four other orders lined up that she didn't bother to prepare. A few of the customers were starting to look around, confused, the service at the cafe was known to be fast and Jean didn't like Ymir slowing it down. He hurried with the orders, bringing it to the tables with a crisp apology, trying to ignore the throbbing memories that storms always brought.

Bertolt and Reiner walked in, making the space look small with their bulk. They were only a year above Jean in school, but both scared him silly. They were larger than him, Reiner in bulk and Bertolt in height, and Jean didn't have much of either. He had what little muscle definition gymnastics had gained him, but on the height side, he was purely average. And they scared the shit out of him. Bertolt swam and Reiner did football, and their little friend who hung out with them, Annie or something, did soccer, which scared Jean off from all those sports freshman year. So what was left that interested Jean? Gymnastics.

Jean hesitantly headed over to the table, "Could I take your order?"

Bertolt didn't look up from his lap, a small bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, Reiner looked up, "Yeah, we'll take two dark chocolate mochas, one white chocolate mocha and four croissants." he paused for a second before recognizing Jean, "Hey, aren't you that kid on the gymnastic team?"

Jean hesitated a minute, "There are a lot of kids on the gymnastic team," he says without humor, the day has been bad enough for Jean without any teasing about the sport being to "feminine" or some shit.

Reiner laughs, either not seeing Jean's irritation or ignoring it, "Funny, man, real funny. Anyway, I meant are you that guy who won last year?" Jean nods curtly, "That's awesome man! Congrats," he turns back to the conversation with Bertolt as if his exchange with Jean had never happened. Bertolt glances at Jean, another bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Maybe this guy liked swimming so much because it hid his sweat, Jean thought as he turned around. Jean then headed back to the kitchen, getting back into his autopilot mode and trying not to concentrate on the booming noise from the outside.

 

The door banged open, Annie came in, followed by a very frantic Ms. Kirstein. "Jean!" his mom shouted, running into the kitchen and kissing him on the head as she went past. "How are you doing today, hun?"

'Fine," Jean mumbled, working on the mochas. "Just a little jumpy,"

His mom glanced at the order he was working on and grabbed the croissants, throwing them in the damaged microwave. "Are you sure? I know how you get when there's a storm. If you want to take the rest of the day off, I'm sure me and Ymir can handle it,"

Upon hearing her name, Ymir leaned into the kitchen,"Yeah Muffin-top, we got it under control,"

"I'm fine, Mom," Jean responds, ignoring Ymir completely. "I'll be fine."

Ms. Kirstein hesitates, "Do you at least want to stay in the kitchen today? I can take the orders if you want to prepare them."

Jean sighs, knowing that this was an argument that he couldn't win. "Sure, Mom, that sounds great," he pauses, "Could I listen to music?"

She smiles, "Jean, silly, we have music playing," Jean gives her a look, she was well aware about his feelings about the music that they played in the cafe. "Okay, Jean, if it makes you feel better,"

He smiles before pulling out his phone and putting in his headphones, turning on his music and trying to ignore the rest of the world besides the dim bass line and cafe food. The lunch rush was coming, why people ate at a cafe for lunch, Jean didn't know, but he was grateful for the business. He soon got into a routine, twisting around to get the orders, putting the plates in the window and make the arrangement of foods and drinks that was required.

Jean was lost in his own little world when the lunch rush ended, and he didn't know what to do with himself for a few minutes afterwards. His final shift ended in two hours, and Ymir was gone in a half hour. The cafe closed down in three hours. Jean went over more times in his head. His shift was over at three, hopefully leaving him enough time to shoot if the weather cleared up.

 

 

He pulled out his headphones, heading out of the kitchen to get a look at the cafe. His mother was out there, talking calmly with Ymir. The cafe was empty besides a couple in the far corner. He went up to his mother, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, for Jean wasn't the only one who was made uneasy by the storm. "Mom, why don't you take a break, you've been working all day."

She shrugged, and Jean's hand fell off her shoulder, "I'm fine, hun, I'll be fine,"

Jean took another look around the cafe, there was nothing that required her to be there. "Mom, it's fine, you need to take a break."

Outside, the local bus pulled away, a trail of smoke following it. Jean turned away from the window, not liking the look of the rain on the sea. The memories were almost impossible to keep down with just the sounds of the rain, the view was almost too much for Jean to handle.

The door swung open, the little bell ringing. A young man stood in the door way, looking lost and frankly, sopping wet. He was soaked through and shaking with the cold. His black hair was plastered to his forehead and his duffle bag was dripping.

"Oh you poor dear!" Ms. Kirstein exclaimed, and Jean looked over at her, confused. This was not one of his school friends, this was a stranger, one who most definitely found it weird that this random woman in a cafe had just called him dear. Jean was pretty sure that he hadn't even ever seen this boy in the town, much less in the cafe.

He looked up and smiled weakly, pulling himself over to the counter. "May I have a coffee to go please?" Ymir nodded, obviously a bit in shook and headed back into the kitchen to make it for him.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down before going back out into that horrible storm?" Ms. Kirstein asked, concerned over this boy like he was Jean.

He smiles again, pressing his lips together, finally looking all the way up at Jean and his mother. His face was dotted with freckles and his eyes a dark brown. "Thank you, ma'am, but I should be going before the storm worsens.”

But Ms. Kirstein stood her ground, "No way young man, you are barely an adult from the looks of you, and I, as a mother, will not let you go back out there in the state you are in now," Jean's eyes opened wide, glancing from his mother to the stranger, at a loss for words and completely confused about what exactly was going on at that moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow chapter again! I promise it's going to get better from here now that we have Marco and Jean's mom. Thanks for reading!


	3. Duffle Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco being a baby, Jean being an annoying little flirt, and the two boys being forced to spend time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I kind of forgot to post for two weeks. :/ sorry about that. I was sick for an entire week and had to make up too much school work. Well, again, sorry, here's the new chapter! I'm going to try to update again tomorrow to make up for it.

The boy was silent for a moment, avoiding the eyes of the people around him. Finally, he spoke, "I have to check into my hotel soon, ma'am."

Jean's mother waved him off, "Nonsense, if you're going in this storm, they'll understand. Besides, the local hotels are all family owned so they'll understand." she nods, reassuring him.

Jean stood there, his eyebrows raised, looking at the boy, he didn't look like anything special, so why was his mother paying so much attention to this boy?

He shuffled his feet, Ymir placed the coffee in his hands and he fiddled with it, "I guess I could stay for a bit..." he trailed off, smiling up at Ms. Kirstein.

Her face lit up, "Good!" she exclaimed, "Now, Jean, go get this boy a change of clothes and stick his stuff in the dryer," Jean stared at her, a look of protest plastered on his face, "Jean." she said sternly, "now."

He sighed, grabbing the boy's bag out of his hands and motioning for him to follow him through the kitchen and up the backstairs to their apartment. The boy followed wordlessly, and Jean glance back at him a few times, he was staring at the ground, a look of concern on his face. He obviously didn't like taking advantage of Ms. Kirstein's hospitality, and Jean definitely didn't think that he should.

Jean opens the door, throwing the boys bag, slightly gently , down on the floor of the laundry room. He motioned for the boy to keep following him and lead him to his room. He kicked a dirty shirt out of the way,glancing to see what the boy thought of his room.

The walls were painted a dark brown, matching the wooden furniture. Band posters and miscellaneous photographs hung around the room, crowding the walls. A bulletin board was propped up on his desk, filled with sketches of potential photos and littered with school work. The boy didn't seem fazed by anything, briefly glancing around it before turning his attention back to Jean.

Jean shuffled through his clothes, trying to find a shirt that was more baggy on him for the broad-shouldered boy. He finally found one, tossing it in the boy's direction. He grabbed the too-big-pants that his mom had bought for him and forgot to return and toss them in the boy's direction. He catches them and Jean leads him back to the laundry room.

Jean stops over the bag, "Mind if I get your clothes and stuff out of here?" he shakes his head, "Alright, get changed."

Jean searches through the clothes and jumbled stuff in the bag, throwing what ever seemed to be dryer-safe into the dryer. About halfway through his exploration of the bag, he realized something. He looks up at the boy, "You know? You never told me your name."

The boy flushed red, Jean's shirt over his head and his chest bare. Freckles dotted his toned muscles even more than they did his face, and a long, thin scar stretched across his torso. He quickly pulls the shirt over his head, handing his wet clothes to Jean and avoiding eye contact. "Oh, um," the red deepened, "It's Marco."

Jean raised an eyebrow, "Marco what?"

"Bodt," he quickly corrected, "Marco Bodt."

Jean smiled, throwing the clothes in his hands into the dryer, he stood up, brushing off his knees, "Well, hello there Marco Bodt. I'm Jean Kirstein, pleasure to make your acquaintance," Marco smiled shyly, shaking Jean's outstretched hand, "Now, Marco," Jean said, sitting back down, "You better drink your coffee or it'll get cold."

Marco sits down cross legged next to Jean, whose cold front had passed, and was starting to warm up to this strange boy. As Marco sips his coffee, Jean reaches into the almost empty bag, his hand met with a rough material, thicker and not as damp. His hand clamps around it, pulling it out. Marco stares at his coffee, and Jean stares at him, astonished.

"Are-are you in the army?" he holds the camouflage uniform in his hand, the fabric falling into his lap.

Marco looks at the floor, responding with a soft "yes," he avoided Jean's eyes. "I had to get out of there somehow." he laughs it off, trying to change the subject.

Out of where?" Jean asks, more confused than enlightened, "How old are you anyway?"

"I just turned 18 two days ago," he rubs the back of his head, making his still-wet-hair stand up, "I just needed to get out of the small, conservative town that I grew up in as fast as I could. I usually hate small towns, but this one I like," he smiles genuinely, "People don't seem as judgmental as they do back home, and plus, you guys have a great view of the ocean!"

"Yeah," Jean mumbled, "Just great." he tosses the uniform and places the remaining objects on top of the dryer, throwing the duffle-bag into it too. "Anyway, we should head downstairs, mum must be wondering where we are."

"Oh...okay," Marco responds, confused by the quick change in heart of the dusty-haired boy.

Jean leads Marco down the stairs wordlessly, smiling at his mother and Ymir. Marco stood by them, chatting idly while Jean took orders and prepared drinks and food. He ignored them, trying to get through the rest of the storm and just finish the day so he could sleep.

 

The next hour was robotic for Jean. He smiled, took orders and made food without fail. Marco had practically been backed into a corner by Jean's mother and was almost forced to tell her his life story. Jean tried to ignore them the best he could, but his gaze kept returning to the freckled boy. He tried to keep his thoughts in check, not wanting to seem nosy, even though the only one who knew what he was thinking was himself. He thought about photography, composing pictures in his head, thinking about subjects and lighting and all sorts of other technical matters. He cropped and reshoot old photos and tried to keep himself busy.

"Jean?" Marco's still-foreign-voice called out, snapping Jean out of his thoughts of a pretty girl and horses, "Your mom said that you'd show me around the town? She said you were a photographer so you know all the best locations,"

Jean nods, looking to the clock, "Yeah, as long as the storm lets up before my shift ends then we can go," he glanced outside, the rain was calming down, blue sky could be seen over the ocean.

"Jean, show Marco around, I can finish your shift, plus the storms almost done! Go get some rain gear for Marco and change out of your uniform," his mother ordered, making the plans final.


	4. A Haunt Around Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco get to know each other, Sasha and Connie show up and more hints about why Jean hates storms.

Fifteen minutes later the rain was completely gone, leaving no evidence that it was raining at all besides the layer of water that covered everything. Jean wore his dark red hoodie, the hood up and covering his earrings, which he knew that his mother didn't approve of.

Marco followed behind him while they wondered silently around the downtown area. As they passed shops, Marco sometimes stopped to look into a window. Most of the time, Jean waited next to him until he had taken in all the sights. Many of the shops were just small gift shops, with a few small grocery stores or craft stores thrown in. Every time a craft store comes up, Marco looks longingly at it, but never stops to look. By the time that they loop around downtown, They have passed three craft stores and gone into none.

Jean stops, turning around to face Marco, "See anyplace you might want to go?" Marco looks a bit shocked. Jean hasn't tried to make conversation the entire time and the one time Marco did, Jean gave him short, one word answers. Marco slowly shakes his head. Jean smirks, "Doesn't seem like that to me."

Marco stares at Jean, not responding for a second, "W-what do you mean?" he asks, narrowing his eyes in confusion

Jean laughs, thinking about how cute the brown haired boy was when he was flustered, then internally yelling at himself in his head, he had just met this boy, and he was going to the army, maybe to his death. Jean flinched at the thought.

"Jean?" Marco asks, cocking his head, concern spreading over his freckled face, "Are you okay?"

Jean shakes off the thought, "Yeah! I'm fine! You were just looking at those craft stores so longingly," Jean tugs at his earring, a nervous habit, "Do you want to go in one?"

Marco hesitates, "I don't have any spending money though,"

Jean shakes his head, leading the way into the nearest one. The door clicks open, making the girl behind the desk look up. "Oh, hey Jean!" she smiles, her brown hair bouncing behind her in a ponytail. "We just got new film in, better quality than last time." She tosses him a roll, "Thanks again for testing it out for us!"

Jean smiles, "No problem Sasha, my pleasure, really,"

She grins, "Yeah, I bet, getting new film for free? I don't know why my dad lets you," she smiles again, "Who's this?" she wiggles her eyebrows at Marco, whose face goes red.

"This is Marco, he's staying in town for a bit,"

Another boy comes out of the back, his greyish hair freshly buzzed, carrying a giant box, looking up, Sasha smiles wider, "Hey Connie! Jean brought in a cute guy!" Marco's face goes even darker, resembling a tomato.

Connie comes up behind Sasha, grabbing her waist in a hug. His small frame is hidden almost completely behind her. He glares out from behind her, "He knows you’re taken right?"

Sasha laughs, rubbing his almost-bald-head, "Yeah he does, besides, I think he'd be cuter with Jean."

Marco's eyes widen, frozen in place, Jean laughs, heading deeper into the store, "Come on, Marco, they don't bite."

Sasha bounces up onto the counter, "Unless you're offering me a french fry," she smiles, "Or potato chips."

Marco gives her a nervous smile before heading after Jean, who was now sitting on the floor, looking at film and filters for his camera. Marco looks around nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Jean looks up at him, "If you want to go look around, you can." Marco nods, slowly wandering off.

The second he's out of sight, Sasha pops out from around the corner, "Soooo...." she says, coming to sit next to Jean, "Marco's cute right?"

Jean looks at her, "Sasha, do you really think I didn't notice? I'm hella gay, remember?" Sasha grins, "So, yes, Marco is cute as hell."

She bounces a bit, "So are you going to ask him out?"

Jean doesn't look up from his film this time, "No." he says flatly.

Sasha pouts, "Why nottttt? You guys would be so cute together."

Jean picks up another box of film, reading over the back, "'Cause even though I'm hella gay, doesn't mean that he is, and besides, he's only staying for who knows how long, and I'm not single, Sasha."

Connie turns around the corner, "Hey, Potato Girl, catch," he says, throwing a bag a chips at her, before walking away.

"Thanks, Bald Boy!" She calls after him, ripping open the bag, "He's jealous that I think Marco is cute and is trying to redeem himself," Jean nods, not paying attention, "Anyway, I'm going to go follow Marco around the store to see if he thinks you're cute."

Jean looks up shocked, "Sasha! NO!" she grins and waves goodbye to him, disappearing into a different aisle. "Why do I have the worst friends?" he asks himself, going back to the film.

After picking out five rolls of film, Jean goes to wait by the counter. He talks to Connie, waiting for Marco to finish whatever he's doing. Sasha darts around the corner, carrying a sketchbook and colored pencils in her hands. She runs to the desk, throwing it down, "Quick! Connie ring it up!" confused, Connie does as he's told and Sasha hands him her card, looking over her shoulder. Marco comes around the corner, flushed, followed by Mr. Braus.

Sasha flashes a toothy grin, "Hey, Dad!" she turns and grabs the bag of art supplies from the other side of the desk, "Here, Marco! Owner's treat."

Mr. Braus pats Marco on the back, "The only requirement is that you have to come show us what you've drawn,"

Marco flushes red, "Uh, I'm sorry but I can't accept it."

Sasha thrusts the bag into his hands, "Too late, it's already paid for and we have a no return policy for this stuff,"

Mr. Braus smiles, "It's okay, Marco! Anything for a friend of Jean's. It's the least we can do after all his father did for us!"

Jean smiles, holding his own bag, "Thank you, Mr. Braus. I'll be back next week with the new film review!" he motions for Marco to follow him out of the store.

"Be sure to bring Marco too!" he shouts after them, snatching the potato chips from his daughter's hands.

"God I love that family," Jean says with a laugh, leading Marco down the street, back to the cafe. "I want to grab my film camera to try out this film, you can wait in the cafe if you want,"

Marco stands outside of the cafe, while Jean runs up to grab his camera. He shoves his digital and film into his camera bag, running to print out Armin's short stories just in case. Running back downstairs, he meets Marco outside.

"Why didn't you wait inside? It's still cold out,"

Marco shifts his weight, looking down, "You're mom is too nice and it makes me feel bad,"

Jean looks at him, confused, but drops the subject. "Okay? Anyways, come on, we're going to miss it!" He says, taking off running towards the beach.

Marco runs after him, having no trouble keeping up, "Where are we going?" Jean smiles, not responding.

They reach the beach in no time, panting, they sit in the sand, smiling. Jean jumps up, running to the shore line. "Look! Here they come!"

Around ten boats appear on the horizon, followed by a giant black form. Jean runs out onto the dock, pulling out his camera and waiting for them to get into range. Marco shields his eyes, the setting sun obscuring his gaze. "What is that?"

Jean gives a small smile, lowering his camera to look over at Marco, "It's the fisherman. They left late last night and had to deal with the storm today. Luckily, it doesn't look like they lost any ships." his gaze sank to the ground, "This time at least,"

Marco looks up again, the black cloud behind the boats still worrying him, "But what's behind them?"

Jean's smile returns, making him look like an happy little boy, "That's the best part, you'll see when it gets here," He grins, looking through the viewfinder again. The shutter goes off multiple times while they wait for a better view.

As the boats approach, the black cloud behind them becomes more apparent. Figures leap out of the water behind the cloud, and some fisherman wade into the water, holding nets with them.

Marco's eyes widen with realization, "Are those....fish?" Jean nods, pointing his camera towards the waiting fisherman. "And, dolphins?" Jean grins, again nodding, not taking his eye off the viewfinder.

As the boats come into the docks, the fish follow, herded by the dolphins into the waiting nets of the fisherman. The few fish that escape flee back to the sea, but many of them are caught in the nets. One dolphin, curious about the sound of the shutter, comes up to the dock where Jean and Marco stand, mimicking the noise. Jean takes a few pictures of it, and pets it's nose before it leaves. Marco stands in awe of the sight that had just unfolded before him.

"Does... does this happen often?" The dolphins swim back out the ocean and Jean lowers his camera.

"Only after a big storm," Jean smiles softly, looking out at the ocean, "But that's also the most dangerous time to be out there. There's nothing worse than not knowing if someone is going to come back from the storm," he lets out a long breath.

The fisherman on the boats start getting off, waving to Jean. Some rub his head on their way past, others fist bump him. But most of them ask about his mother, and how she's doing. A few even promise to visit the cafe the next day, which they all have off.

After the excitement is over, Jean and Marco are left alone on the beach. The set is still in the sky, looking over the two boys, the tip of it just barely dipping into the ocean. Marco sketches in his new book and Jean lays on the sand, staring at the sky. Once in a while Marco looks over at Jean, studying him.

Marco hesitates, the dusty brown haired boy's eyes are shut peacefully, giving the illusion of sleep. "Jean?" Marco finally asks. Jean opens his eyes, turning his body to face the other boy, he makes a questioning sound, his eyes fluttering open and shut sleepily, "Sasha said you're gay," Jean rolls back around on the sand, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs over each other. He doesn't say anything, Marco speaks up again, "Is it true?"

Jean sighs, not looking back over at Marco, "Kinda," he rubs his eyes with one hand, a yawn escaping his mouth, "I mean, I'm bi, so I like guys and girls, depending." He finally looks over at Marco, "Why? Are you gay?"

Marco sits back in the sand, his pencil resting in the crease of the sketchbook, "I'm not really sure, I don't think so," he says carefully. "I mean, I've liked girls in the past, but, you know, things change," Jean nods, another yawn escaping his mouth. Marco chuckles, "Maybe we should head back soon, I still have to check into my hotel after all,"

The two boys pull themselves to their feet, dusting the sand off of themselves and gathering their stuff. They don't look at each other as they head back to the cafe, where sleep was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! I will start updating regularly on Wednesdays from now on, sorry for the random schedule!


	5. A Cat in a Floral Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even more hints (a pretty obvious one, if I do say so myself) about why Jean hates storms, Jean also thinking he's punk (Here is what he's listening to: http://8tracks.com/deadbolt_1/dead-end-street) and some other stuff happens (including two new characters, well, more like one but whatever). Also, please excuse my extremely choppy dialogue, I need to work on it.

The ship shock with the waves, increasing in force and size as the storm raged on. Jean was panicking, trying to keep his balance enough to get below deck, where he was sure it was safe. The rest of the crew had fallen overboard, their bodies thrown into the black water. They knew that Jean, being the youngest on board at the age of eight, was no match for the storm, and tied a rope around his waist to the railing of the stairs below the deck.

A figure appeared from the door, shielding his eyes from the rain. Jean's vision was too obscured, hiding the figure's identity. Jean called out to him "Help!" he screamed, hoping that the sound would carry through the storm.

The figure's head snapped around, spotting Jean, "Jean!" He cried, "Don't move, son, I'm coming to get you!"

Jean recognized his voice "Mr. Shadis!" He called, "Mr. Shadis, help me!"

As Shadis reached the boy, another wave crashed over the deck, almost throwing him overboard, Jean screamed, he had seen enough men lost to the waves for a lifetime, "Mr. Shadis!"

"I'm okay, Jean!" he says as he reached him, tears rolling down his chubby face, "Come on! We need to get below deck," Pulling himself and Jean to the door, he fought the waves and rain trying to pull them down to the depths of the ocean.

This kind of weather was unforgiving, as Keith Shadis knew, he had seen many men over taken by the waves of the ocean, and he knew that this small boy in his arms had too. Sobs shook the boy's body, making Shadis fight even harder to deliver him to safety.

 

Jean shot up in bed, a cold sweat covering his body and his sheets kicked down to the end of the bed. He was shaking with the memory of his dream lingering, and his damp hair stuck up on its ends. He took a shaking breath, trying to recompose himself, trying to find the courage to go back to sleep. He pulled a thin blanket over his, clutching his pillow to his chest, taking slow breaths.

After about twenty minutes of this, he realizes that he won't be able to go back to sleep. He yanks his phone out from the charger, turning his alarm off ahead of time. He still had two hours before he had to get up and work in the cafe, and he had time to waste. He puts his headphones in his ears, pressing play on his music, not caring what came up. "Somewhere I Belong" by Vaencia comes on, making Jean let out another deep sigh.

He lies there, on his back, one leg sticking out of the blanket for about an hour. He pulls himself out of bed, his bare chest still moving heavily from the dream. "I'm never going to grow that one out am I?" his whispers to himself forcing a slight laugh.

Shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweat pants, heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat before heading down to the cafe. As he's walking past the living room, a moving form on the couch stops him. He freezes, tensing in case of a burglar, or some sort of animal.

A familiar voice mumbles something, turning over onto his back. Jean had completely forgotten about Marco, who his mother had practically forced to stay at their house, saying that it cost a lot less than a hotel and that he could just help at the cafe to pay for their kindness, or something like that. Marco had been living there for a week and a half now, but seeing him still surprised Jean. Besides, Jean hadn't woken up _this_  early since he started staying with them.

Jean grabs a cereal bar and a glass of milk, sitting down at the table, eating slowly. He still had another hour to kill before he had to go downstairs. He chews slowly, counting every bite that he takes. In all, it takes about twenty bites for him to finish the cereal bar, and that was when he was making sure that they were as small as possible. He sighs, pulling himself up to get another one.

Marco yawns behind him, his sleepy form on his feet and in the doorway to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes, his hair sticking straight up in the back. Jean pulls out one of his headphones in a small greeting. Marco was back in his own clothes, in a tight green tee shirt and Christmas patterned pajama pants. Jean's chest was still bare, he didn't think anyone would wake up at this hour and it was making him self conscious. He crossed his arms, leaning against the cold metal of the fridge.

"Morning," he says, twirling his headphone around his fingers, it was a bad habit of his that often lead to broken head phones or something flying across the room. "Why are you up so early?"

Marco glances at the clock on the wall, his eyes widening slightly, another yawn falling from his mouth. "I heard you up and wanted to come see what you were doing, I didn't realize it was this early," he points at the clock which currently reads 5:00 am.

Jean shrugs, "I have chronic nightmares and usually can't fall back asleep after them, so I decided to eat early this morning and maybe get some photography stuff done," he shrugs, grabbing two of the cereal bars from the shelf behind him, "Catch." he throws one at Marco, who promptly drops it on the floor and stumbles over himself. Jean has no idea how this guy managed to get himself into the army.

He bites into his cereal bar as he heads back to his room to change into his work clothes. He saw no point in putting a different shirt on if he was going to change later anyways. He grabs his laptop and camera, heading back to the kitchen where Marco is sitting awkwardly in a chair. He's folded in on himself, looking at Jean a bit fearfully.

Jean smiles, putting his stuff down in front of the chair next to Marco, he turns to the fridge, "Do you want anything?"

Marco looks at his hands, "May I have some water, please?"

Jean snorts, making Marco look up, "Dude, you don't have to be so formal about it, it's just water," He smiles, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. "You can have water as long as you promise to to ruin my laptop or camera." Marco nods, smiling.

Jean hands him the water, opening up his laptop and logging in. He opens the bottom of his camera and pulls out the card, sticking it into his computer. After uploading the photos to his computer, he puts the card back into the camera, promptly erasing all the memory. Marco leans over his shoulder as he flips through the pictures, deleting some and moving others to another folder.

"Jean?" Marco asks, "What are you doing?"

Jean drags another photo to the trash, "Deleting the photos that are bad, leaving the ones that are okay and moving the ones that I like to a folder to edit."

Marco nods, understanding slightly, still watching over Jean's folder, as another picture comes up he points to the screen, "I like that one," Jean takes one look at the shot and deletes it, "Hey! What's you do that for? I liked that one!"

Jean shrugs, pulling up the trash bin to give Marco another look, the photo was of the boats just barely coming over the horizon. Three of them lines up on the lower part of the picture, the setting sun silhouetting them. "It's out of focus." Jean points to a spot in the water, "This part is in focus instead of the boats."

"So?" Marco sits back in his chair, "Can't you use it anyways?"

Jean shakes his head, glancing at the clock. He closes his laptop and gets up. "I need to go get the cafe ready for opening. My mom is going to sleep in for a few more hours before she has to go to her work, so be careful not to wake her. You can take a shower if you want, the towels are in the closet to the right of the bathroom. Just come down at around eight, that's when we open. So, you know, hang out, you can go on the desktop computer in the living room if you want, just do whatever."

Marco nods, following Jean down the hall, towards both Jean's room and the bathroom. He stops in front of the closet with the towels, calling after Jean, "Could I maybe come down and hang out with you in the cafe after I shower?"

Jean nods, shoving his stuff just inside his room, "Yeah, whatever, if you want to help," he shrugs, his response makes Marco smile, thinking that maybe they could talk some more.

 

Hours pass in the cafe as Marco gets the hang of quickly making coffee, tea and an assortment of other cafe foods or drinks. But after a while, he's surveying customers and taking orders like he's been working here his entire life. At around ten, there's a dry spell. No one is in the cafe, so Marco and Jean hang around the counter, talking about school or whatever. Jean has discovered that Marco went to a private school all of his life and that graduating from the kindergarten-to-twelfth grade-school was the best thing that had even happened to him.

The bell on the door rings, and a girl with short, whitish hair steps in. Jean's face immediately lights up, and she grins at him. Her baggy floral sweater covers the top half of her jeans, and her black boots make a clicking sound as she walks across the floor, toward the two boy.

Jean stands up while she approaches, pulling her into a hug when she reaches them. He plants a soft kiss on the top of her head. She smiles, turning around in his arms to face Marco. His head rests on her forehead, his arms lingering around her waist.

"Jean?" She asks, her cat-like eyes on Marco, "Who's this?"

He nuzzles his face into her hair, "That's Marco, he's staying with us for a while and helping out in the cafe." he says, and she pulls out of his arms.

"Aww, but Jean, why won't your mom let me work here?" she says pouting. Marco shifts uncomfortably. And she glances back at him, her eyes widening slightly, "Oh!" she jumps a bit, tucking one of her feet behind the other, "I almost forgot to introduce myself! I'm Hitch!" She says, grinning from ear to ear, only reminding Marco even more of a cat. She holds out her hand and Marco tenderly shakes it.

She falls back onto Jean, who is sitting down again. She climbs on to his lap and give him a small kiss. Jean smiles, kissing her back a bit. Marco fiddles around with the hemming on his shirt, feeling like he was intruding. "Umm," he hesitates, "I'm going to go make myself some tea. Do you guys want anything?"

Jean shakes his head, his gaze still on Hitch. She looks up at Marco, her face still in what seems like a permanent smile, "No, thanks, Marco." she turns her attention back to Jean, who whispers something in her ear to make her laugh. Marco heads to the kitchen, disappearing from their sight. The second he's gone Hitch laughs, shaking so much that that Jean has to hold onto her so she doesn't fall off his lap.

Jean pulls her closer to him, "What? What did I do?"

She shakes her head, carefully wiping away a tear as to not mess up her perfectly winged eyeliner, "You didn't do anything babe, I think I might have scared off your friend though,"

Jean smiles, shaking his head slightly, their lips almost touching, "Nah, Marco's fine. He's just a bit shy. We saw Connie and Sasha yesterday and he looked like a tomato," Jean laughs, kissing her noise.

She smiles, "Glad to know that it's not just me," She nuzzles her head into his chest, listening to his heart beat for a minute.

Marco comes out from the kitchen just as the bell on the door rings again, but neither Jean nor Hitch react to either events. They sit there like that, listening to each other's hearts and breath.

"HEY SHRIMP DICK FUCK NUGGET!" the man who just comes in shouts at the top of his lungs. Jean jumps, causing both him and Hitch to fall off the chair. "YOU SHOULDN'T DO SHIT LIKE THAT SO CLOSE TO THE KITCHEN!"

Jean sighs, laughing a bit, looking up at the tall man, "God, Shadis, you scared the crap out of me,"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks again for reading! You'll get to see more of Shadis and Hitch in the near future, and finally get the whole story of Jean and the storm. You guys really don't know how much I appreciate you guys reading this, it's my pride and joy!


	6. Sinking Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jean have some tearful bonding time and Shadis's relationship with Jean becomes clearer. The photoshoot for Armin also takes place and Mikasa, Eren and Armin also get to meet Marco.

Jean pulls himself to his feet, brushing himself off before helping Hitch up. She climbs back onto the stool, perching on it with her legs folded under her. Shadis glares at her and Jean, both of whom grin, glancing at each other.

"So, Mr. Shadis, what brings you to our lovely cafe?" Jean asks, "We don't see you around here often."

Shadis smirks, heading over to one of the booths. "I came to see if you really knew how to run a fucking cafe, since the other fisherman and I have the day off. But I guess that you failed so fucking miserably and got distracted by your girlfriend that your mother found the need to hire you a babysitter," he motions to Marco, "Now come take my order, horse face."

Jean rolls his eyes, pulling out a pad and pen then heading over to Shadis. Marco stood, frozen in the corner, holding his tea and slightly shaking from Shadis's outburst he quietly walks over to Hitch, hoping that she knew more about the situation than he did. "Uhhh, Hitch?" she turns to him, still smiling, "Who is that?"

She grins, "That's Keith Shadis, he was good friends with Jean's dad before the accident, and has helped Jean out a bunch since then." Marco tries to ask another question, but Hitch cuts him off, "He's a bit loud spoken, but Jean gets along with him great and they've been friends since," she makes an abstract motion with her hands, "...you know. Oh! He's also my dad."

Marco takes a second, letting the new information sink in, "What accident?" he asks her, glancing over at Jean, who has now sat down across from Shadis and is laughing with him.

Hitch's eyes widen, "He hasn't told you?" Marco shakes his head, turning his attention back to her. She hesitates, making a bit of a face. "I don't think it's my place to tell you. Sorry, Marco, but ask Jean about it." Marco nods, understanding.

Jean heads back over to them, mumbling something and grinning. Hitch bounces up from the stool and heads over to her father. Jean leans against the counter and Marco takes a sip of his tea. "So, do you like Hitch?" Jean asks Marco, not taking his eyes off the father-daughter pair. Marco nods, still thinking about what Hitch said.

"She's really nice," he adds, not wanting to say anything to disrespect her or their relationship. "Jean?" he takes a deep breath, "Where's your dad?"

Jean's shoulders fall a bit, but he tries not to make it noticeable. He turns around, a obviously fake smile plastered on his face. "I was wondering when you'd notice," He plays with the edge of the paper as Marco waits for him to answer. "He- ah - he died in a fishing accident," he swallows, "th-there was a big sto-storm and we..."

Marco cuts him off, "It's okay Jean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he nods, still playing with the edge of the paper.

Shadis and Hitch come up to the desk, breaking Jean out of his daze, he grins at them, before Hitch speaks up, "We have to go, see you guys later," she quickly kisses Jean before bouncing out of the cafe, not waiting for her father to follow.

Shadis turns to Marco, "Hey, Freckles, take care of the shitty horse-boy," Marco nods, and the man disappears through the door.

Jean's smile disappears as soon as the pair is out of sight. "My mom and Ymir are coming in a half-hour, and I have the rest of the day off. I have a favor to ask you," Marco nods, telling him to continue. "One of my friends has a writing class and he needs a cover picture, and uhh..." he pauses, "Its about a soldier,"

Marco smiles, "Do you want me to be in the pictures?" Jean nods, blushing slightly, "Sure! Sounds fun!"

 

Two hours later, Marco awkwardly stood on the beach, Jean was messing around with his camera and people were starting to stare. Marco shifted from foot to foot, moving to stand closer to Jean. Jean didn't look up from trying to cram the film into the camera, a task which was giving him more trouble than normal. He cursed a few times before pulling the entire thing out and starting over.

"Ah!" he yelled in triumph, "I got it!" he snaps the back of the camera shut, pointing it at Marco, "I think we're all good now!"

"Jean!" someone yells making them both turn around. Armin stood above them, on the path that lead down to the beach. He runs down the path to the two boys, Eren and Mikasa following behind. Marco stands a bit behind Jean, trying to hide himself, even though Jean is shorter than him.

Jean smiles, "Hey," Armin grins, looking around him at Marco, Jean takes a step back to reveal the freckled boy, "This is Marco,"

Armin smiles, sticking out his hand for Marco to shake, "I'm Armin!" he grins, "Are you modeling for Jean?" Marco nods, his face going a bit red, Armin turns back to Jean, "Is this for my short stories?" Jean nodded and the blonde boy did a little dance, hugging Jean before running back to the waiting Eren and Mikasa with a wave.

After a hour and a half, Marco and Jean return to the cafe, saying a brief hello to Ymir and Ms. Kirstein and head upstairs. Marco peels off his uniform with a sigh of relief, changing into a tee shirt and jeans. Jean puts his film camera away, heading to the living room to hang out with Marco.

They sit there, in silence, Jean editing the pictures from the day before and Marco sketching in his sketch book. The room was filled with the clicking of the mouse and the scrape of the pencil against the rough-textured paper.

After a while, Jean stopped editing. He closed his laptop and stared at the wall. Marco looked up, but soon looked back down to his drawings.

"It was my fault, you know." Jean says, not taking his eyes off the wall.

Marco closes the sketchbook and moves closer to him, "What was your fault?"

Jean sighs, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. "I wanted to go on the boat." He looks at Marco for a second, "It was my eighth birthday. He hadn't let me come on a fishing trip with him yet, saying that it was too dangerous," he closes his eyes again, tilting his head to the ground, "We woke up late, Mom wanted us to have breakfast with her before we left. He usually woke up earlier, 'Red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in the morn,' sailors take warn,' is what he always said. He never even considered for a moment that day that a storm was coming.

“Shadis was his first mate, he owned the boat, and Shadis was his best friend. There were other men in the crew too, about ten of them. Shadis thought that it was going to storm that day, but my father didn't think so. He asked me if I wanted to risk it and I..." he trails off a single tear rolling down his face. He squeezes his eyes tighter, "I said that I wanted to go anyway. I didn't think." he sobs, covering his mouth with his hand.

Marco grabs his other hand in both of his, clutching onto it for dear life. "Jean, you were eight, it wasn't your fault."

Jean looks up, tears clouding his vision, making Marco blurry. "But it was! When it was storming, they tied me to the deck so I wouldn't fall off the boat. The other fisherman- the crew - they all fell! Marco, they all died because of me! My father-" he chokes back a sob, "He had Shadis get me into a life jacket, telling Shadis that he had to protect me! He wipes his nose on his sleeve, "He went down with the ship because he wanted me and Shadis to take the only life boat still on board. Marco- I saw him- he stood on deck and watched us drift away from the boat. He stood there to make sure that we didn't sink, and he was pushed over the side."

Jean completely breaks down, sobbing into Marco's arms. Marco stays there, letting Jean ruin his shirt and hold onto him for dear life. Jean cried and cried, but after a while, he let go of Marco, straightening back up and wiping his face.

"I'm sorry, Marco, I didn't mean to ruin your shirt." Jean says, sniffling slightly.

"Jean, it's okay if-"

Jean stands up and cuts him off, "I'm going to my room." he grabs his laptop in one hand, turning his back to the dark haired boy and practically running to his room. He slams the door, tossing his laptop onto the bed. He covers his face with his hands, sinking to the floor. Letting a silent sob shake his body. There was nothing he could do to take what had just happened back. Marco was the only one that had ever heard the whole story from his point of view. Shadis had told the others, everyone in town knew. For weeks afterwards, he refused to eat, to sleep, to go to school. His mother had to forcibly take him from his room to the hospital, and then to therapy. Every night he cried, the darkness reminding him of the moment that his father went under. He cried alone in his room then, and he cries alone in his room now. He cried until the tears refuse to come, and then he sits, tear-less, on the floor, waiting for sleep to take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates! I'm going to try my best to make it as regular as possible but the last few weeks have been crazy for me. I hope you liked this chapter, it made me cry while writing it.


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